a war with no-one to blame

Bound to the confined breath of a lure,

Made necessary, even dependence rears its ugly head…

No cries be wed,

Separated by the battle of staying afloat.

 

And when the war is born of undefinable concerns and roots,

You ask yourself where the clause lay buried within the 8pt. print

Or which ray on sun lay responsible for the blinding glint.

 

Until the realisation of non-existent-human-rulebooks existence remains null;

until you admit the carelessness,

until you feel the unpredictability,

and then you choose to appreciate the surprise

or hate, and build upon some demise

 

If all it comes down to is textbooks,

a back-to-school lesson in order to graduate from mediocrity;

how high would your regard be toward that which began this whole thought process

individuals, each one to his own,

a book titled: <your name>

 

 

 

 

 

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